


Renewal of Vows

by KikiTwinTai2



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: F/M, Wedding Fluff, aushun, edelweiss family, kugelmugel is an adorable child
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-21
Updated: 2019-08-21
Packaged: 2020-09-23 11:40:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,112
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20339509
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KikiTwinTai2/pseuds/KikiTwinTai2
Summary: Their empire may be dissolved, but their love has not. Now Roderich and Elizabeta have a chance to have their perfect wedding, not for politics, but themselves. Feat. Best Man Gil, pageboy Kugie and the tiniest hint of LatLiech.





	Renewal of Vows

**Author's Note:**

> AusHun is my OTP and they deserve all the happiness in the world. Also Kugie is just the cutest child ever.

The room was a hive of activity. Elizabeta stood in the centre, her dress flowing over the box she stood on. Lilli fluttered around her, adjusting the long train with delicate hands. She stepped back, looking up at the taller woman in awe.

“It’s so pretty.”

Elizabeta smiled down at the younger girl. “Thank you, darling. But your dress is beautiful. Raivis is sure to love it.”

A blush spread across Lilli’s face. She looked down, then peeped up at Elizabeta again.

“D-doyoureallythinkso?” she stuttered quickly, then clapped her hands over her mouth.

Elizabeta let out a tinkling laugh. “Of course! You look lovely. Be sure to save him a dance, alright?”

Lilli beamed, then her face fell. “But- “

“Don’t worry,’ Elizabeta cut her off, ‘Roderich has already had a word with Vasch. Your brother won’t interfere, you have my word.” She winked, making Lilli blush again. The girl turned her attention back to the dress, her eyes shining happily.

“Ok, all done!” she said.

“Ok.” Elizabeta stepped down from the stand carefully, taking Lilli’s outstretched hand for balance. Lilli bustled round her again, making sure the dress flowed properly. Satisfied, she stepped back, her hands clasped in front of her face.

“Well? How do I look?” Elizabeta asked joyfully.

“Like a princess. No, a queen,” Lilli replied, her eyes wide in amazement.

“Really?” Elizabeta blushed prettily. She could feel her heart pounding in excitement and nerves.

“Liza? Are you ready?” a voice called from outside. The two turned to the door.

“Yes! Come on in!” she called back.

Two girls entered the room. The taller was in a long blue dress with a white bodice, strapless to enhance her full figure. She wore a pretty cream headband that complimented her short hair, and she had chosen not to accentuate herheight by pairing it with simple white pumps. The smaller girl to her side wore a calf-length dark blue dress with delicate straps, tight at the bodice, then flowing outwards to sway around her legs in layers of tulle and silk. Her feet were adorned in tiny blue kitten heels, with ballet-like straps that laced up to her calves. She looked shyer than the other, her gaze locked on the floor.

“Katya! Natalia! You look amazing!” Elizabeta gasped. “Nat, I told you that dress would suit you perfectly. Ivan will love it. And you, Kat.”

Natalia flushed at the mention of her brother. “Thank you. You look very pretty” she stated quietly.

Katyusha walked over, a case in her hand. “Well, if you’re all done changing, now sit!” she ordered. Elizabeta laughed and obeyed, her gaze tripping over her reflection in the ornate mirror on top of the dressing table.

The girls gossiped as Katyusha did their hair and makeup. As the oldest, she had a woman’s intuition when it came to beauty, and knew exactly how to show it off, perhaps because she did it so rarely herself. Her own makeup was understated and natural. Natalia’s was a perfect match with her dress, her eyes outlined in a dark blue liner and eyeshadow that brought out the deep blue of her dress. It hadn’t been easy to get her to agree to it, but eventually she had caved to her sister’s ministrations and agreed. With her pale face and intense blue eyes, she had the look of a porcelain doll, silent and still and slightly ethereal, but hauntingly beautiful.

Next was Lilli’s turn. As she was (in appearance, at least) only around 14 years old, Katyusha had opted for a very light touch with her makeup. A sweep of powder on her eyelids and a hint of blush on her cheeks, along with baby pink lips and a light touch of mascara to accentuate her huge green eyes, and she was done.

Then came the bride herself. True to her tomboyish nature, Elizabeta hardly ever wore makeup, saying it would only get in the way of fighting and was too fussy. Today, however, was entirely different. This day was entirely _hers_, and so she was determined that today, at least, she would look the part.

To start, a moisturiser, to prepare and hydrate her skin. Then a primer, to ensure a smooth, even base. A hint of concealer, to hide the slight shadows under her eyes (for what bride would ever have a good night’s sleep the night before her wedding?) as well as a touch of powder. Then foundation, expertly matched by Katyusha to complement her rich, creamy skin tone. As with the others, a sweep of blush along her high cheekbones – although as Katyusha pointed out, smiling,

“not that you’ll need it, you’ll be a perfect blushing bride!”- and mascara to lengthen her already beautifully long, curling eyelashes. She had been firm on the subject of using anything false, whether nails or eyelashes, arguing that for one, they seemed highly impractical, and for another, Roderich already knew what she looked like, and so he likely wouldn’t notice anyway.

She had also decided against anything with glitter or sparkles. Katyusha had shown her the current fashion for highlighters and contours, and Elizabeta had not been impressed. “Why would anyone put that on their skin!” she cried.

Katyusha giggled. “Because! It’s sparkly. Who doesn’t love glitter?” she said playfully. Lilli seemed entranced, however, and reached out to the pot. Katyusha took it away from her. “No, darling, you’re gorgeous without it. In a few years, maybe. But your brother would kill me if I put any on you.”

“Ok,” the girl agreed. Katyusha smiled at her. “Natalia?”

Her sister snatched her hand back from the display. “I wasn’t looking at it!” she snapped. “It wouldn’t suit me anyway,” she muttered.

Katyusha and Elizabeta shared a glance. They both knew that Natalia’s harsh attitude and often rude manner was partly due to her painful shyness, the result of being cloistered by her brother and sister for centuries.

“If you want some, I’ll do it in a minute. Let me just finish Elizabeta first, alright Nat?” Katyusha asked gently.

“No, I didn't-" the other girl stuttered into silence. Katyusha smiled at her before turning back to Elizabeta.

Katyusha did the finishing touches, putting a very light sweep of powder over Elizabeta’s cheeks, then finishing with a setting spray. The final result was a very natural, simple, and utterly beautiful.

“Now for your hair,” she stated. Elizabeta smiled and closed her eyes, letting Katyusha work on her long chestnut curls. The girls sat in companionable quiet, Lilli and Natalia simply watching as Katyusha worked on Elizabeta.

As per Elizabeta’s request, most of her waist-length hair was left natural. The strands nearest her face were pinned back gently with diamond flowers and wound around the small tiara she wore. It was a simple, small arch that sat at the top of her head, and held the long veil in place. Once her hair was done, Katyusha stood back, allowing Elizabeta to look in the mirror.

She gasped softly. “Kat! You are a genius! Oh, I could kiss you!” she exclaimed.

Katyushka giggled. “Save that for your husband” she chided. Elizabeta laughed and blushed slightly. She clutched her hands together and brought them up to her mouth.

“Oh, gosh. It’s really happening now” she whispered. Her eyes shone.

“Don’t tear up now, darling, I’ve only just finished your makeup!” Katyusha cried. Elizabeta giggled. “Oh, I’m not crying. I’m just so happy!” she said.

Katyusha looked at the ornate travelling clock on the dresser.

“Well, I’d say it’s about time to go. Are you ready?” she asked.

Elizabeta gasped. “Oh. Is it? Oh gosh, oh gosh oh gosh,” she babbled. Katyusha reached out gently and took her shoulders.

“Look at me, Liza. _Look at me,_” she ordered. Elizabeta complied.

“Calm down. Deep breath, ok? Deep breath. Just relax,” Katyusha cooed.

Elizabeta took a deep breath, then dropped her hands to her side. “Ok. I’m fine now, Kat. Let go.”

Katyusha stepped back, allowing Lilli to step in and fluff her dress out again, making sure it hung perfectly. As she only came up to Elizabeta’s shoulder, she stepped back when she was done, allowing Katyusha to lift the veil over Elizabeta’s head and settle it carefully over her hair.

A small cough broke their attention. Natalia, who had gone out of the room for a moment, stood in the doorway with a stack of boxes in her hands.

“Oh! Thank you, Nat,” Elizabeta said. Natalia carried it over carefully, setting it on the dresser. She lifted the smaller two and set them on the top, then carefully lifted the lid from the largest.

There, nestled amongst the white silk, was the bouquet. Made to Elizabeta’s exact specifications, it was a direct replica of the one she had held all those centuries ago. Made, of course of Edelweiss, along with white tulips, the national flower of their countries.

The other two boxes held the corsages. Made of edelweiss, they were twisted into delicate bracelets. Lilli, as flower girl, had a little basket as well, full of white rose petals to throw over the happy couple.

Katyusha fixed her own, then turned to her sister. She slid the band over Natalia’s small wrist. “There. All done. You look lovely, _mladshaya sestra_. Now, please try to smile.”

She did, reluctantly. Katyusha nodded. Walking over to the door, she opened it and stepped through, then held it open for the others.

“Ready?”

Elizabeta took a deep breath to steady herself, then nodded. “Yes.”

Katyusha giggled. “Then let’s go, ladies. Eliza, your husband awaits.”

And with that, they set off down the corridor.

* * *

In a different part of the hotel, and equally chaotic scene was playing out. Roderich paced back and forth along the carpet, worry etched across his face. He was muttering to himself as he paced.

“Calm down, Roderich,” Ludwig stated. As usual, the blond seemed stern, almost indifferent. Deep down, however, he was just as worried for his cousin, although his worry stemmed more from his role as manager than for any fear for Roderich.

“Ja, just chill. Liz is probably totally freaking out anyway, so calm down, yeah?”

Ludwig shot his brother a glare. “That is not helpful, brother.”

Gilbert flapped a hand at his younger brother. “Nah, Roddy knows I’m helping, don’t you Roddy? The awesome me will sort everything out! Not that anything will go wrong, but just if it did, yeah?” he laughed.

Roderich ignored both of them, continuing his apparent mission to wear a hole in the carpet.

“Please calm down, papa. Mama isn’t really worrying, I’m sure,” a small voice piped up. Roderich stopped suddenly and turned to the source of the voice.

A small boy sat in a chair in the corner of the room, swinging his feet. He was dressed in a child’s suit, with a white shirt tied around the neck with a small black ribbon and paired with black shorts. His jacket was open at the front to show his shirt, while long coattails went down to his knees at the back. He wore little black boots on his feet, and his long silvery-blond hair was done up in two plaits tied with white ribbons. In a fit of fancy, someone, probably Elizabeta, had also wound edelweiss through his hair. Where a normal child would have complained, especially a boy, Hans had been remarkably calm about it, stating that it was ‘art’. Of course, that was his answer to everything.

Roderich walked over to his son. “Thank you, Hans. At least one of you has some sense.” He shot an annoyed glance over to the other two.

The little micronation regarded his father figure solemnly. “Papa, why do we have to do all this? You and mama are already married. And we all live together. So why do we have to do this?” he asked seriously.

Roderich knelt down to face the child. “Because your mother and I love each other very much. However, when we were married before, it was as nations. This is as people. Do you understand?” he asked gently.

Hans screwed his face up in thought. His shoulders drooped. “Not really,” he said. Roderich sighed.

“I don’t expect you would. You are only a micronation, after all,” he muttered. Taking his hands in his own, he looked at Hans and replied,

“As well as being representatives of our countries, what we call personifications, we are also human. Think of it this way. If something happens to your building, do you feel it?”

Hans nodded. “Sometimes. Not always. If it was big I would.”

“Good. But do your emotions affect the building at all? If you are upset, the building does not fall down, does it?”

Hans shook his head, understanding coming to his eyes.

“So you and mama love each other as mama and papa, not Austria and Hungary? And you want to get married again because it’s for you, not your boss?”

Roderich smiled, pleased that the child had grasped it so quickly.

Hans pondered this, frowning in thought. “So its art, then?” he asked.

Roderich resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Everything _had_ to come back to art with this child.

“Yes, if you want to think of it that way. Love is the highest form of art, as some say.”

Hans nodded. He kicked back off the chair and stood up. “Ok! Can we go now then? I want to see mama in her dress. She wouldn’t let me see it and I bet its really pretty. Lets go!”

He ran over to the door, his interest in the adults utterly lost. This time Roderich _did _roll his eyes. As much as he regarded the micronation with affection, the child could be remarkably single-minded in anything he regarded as irrelevant.

“Well, kiddo’s got it right. Time to go!” Gilbert laughed. He walked over to the door, where Hans was struggling to turn the elaborate handle, and opened it. He reached out to ruffle Hans’ hair, chuckling when the boy leaned away from his touch. He turned back to Roderich.

“You ready, Roddy?”

Roderich gulped. He stood stock still, paralysed now that it was all suddenly _real_. One hand went to his throat, the other tangled in his hair.

“Oh goodness. It’s really happening, isn’t it?” he said, faintly. His eyes were faintly glazed over.

Ludwig sighed. At a nod from his brother, he strode over to Roderich. Straightening his uniform, he gently took Roderich’s hands and placed them by his side, then turned to stand behind him. He all but pushed him forward towards Gilbert.

“Go. Your wife will be waiting for you.”

Roderich tried to turn his head to look at Ludwig, but the blond resolutely pushed him forward to the door.

“Just _go,_” he said.

“Right.” Roderich tugged once on his lapels, as if for strength, then strode forward. His coat flew out behind him as he walked out of the room.

After much consideration, he had decided to wear a simple, three piece tuxedo with a white shirt and coat and purple waistcoat. A matching cravat was tied around his throat.

Although he was assured that his suit would match his bride, as per tradition neither he nor Hans had been allowed to see the dress beforehand. The only hint Elizabeta had given him was that it would _not_ be the same as anything she had worn before, a choice which he had wholeheartedly supported.

After all, this was to celebrate their love as humans. Therefore, they would both be dressed in clothes of _their _choosing. Secretly, Roderich was glad that he was no longer bound by the dress standards of the day and therefore free from military uniform. It was decidedly hot and uncomfortable, and utterly unsuited for dancing.

His thoughts naturally turned to his soon-to-be wife. Ludwig kept a steady hand on his back as they walked out of the room, then let go once they were in the corridor. He turned to Gilbert.

“You have it” he stated. Gilbert nodded, his face uncharacteristically serious. He patted his breast pocket. “All safe.”

Ludwig nodded. The two fell into step behind Roderich, making their way down towards the entrance. 

* * *

The wedding itself was held in a nearby cathedral. Roderich stood by the altar, Ludwig and Gilbert behind and to the side of him, while Hans took his place in the front row along with the others. The air was filled with a sense of excited anticipation. The door opened a crack, and Lilli slipped in, holding her basket out in front of her. She gave a tiny nod, and the silence was suddenly broken by the sound of music.

The traditional air filled the room as the doors at the back opened, and Elizabeta appeared in the doorway. It took all of Roderich’s will to turn around slowly. When he did, he could only stare, his eyes wide with love and amazement.

She was, without a doubt, the most beautiful being he had ever seen in his life. The dress was floor-length, the delicate train held carefully by Katyusha and Natalia. It was not pure white, but rather a gentle, soft cream that seemed to glow in the light of the cathedral. It was not that that made his breath catch in his throat, however. It was the design.

The bodice was covered in the delicate embroidery of her nation, the traditional pattern of flowers flowing over her chest and down across the skirt in a simple, plain pattern. Woven among the flowers, however, were tiny edelweiss decorations, effortlessly melding and blending with the material. A true union of their nations, it was her way of showing their love, unbreakably intertwined. He couldn’t stop the tears coming to his eyes.

Elizabeta made her way down the aisle in time with the music, Katyusha and Natalia matching every step. Lilli stepped lightly in front, her tiny stature and delicate dress giving her the look of an angel, sent from heaven to bless the day. Once she reached the front, she turned around and stepped back to stand beside Hans, allowing Katyusha and Natalia to fall into line behind Elizabeta, mirroring the men. That left the bride and groom.

Elizabeta stepped forward smoothly to stand beside Roderich. She kept her gaze resolutely forward to the altar, not daring to turn. She nodded to the priest.

At their request, the wedding was conducted in the traditional, human way. Each said their vows, Roderich first, followed by Elizabeta. They had decided to keep to traditional vows, the only concession being that Elizabeta omitted the line to ‘honour and obey’, it being both outdated and rather impossible for Elizabeta to keep to. Then came the last line.

“…from this day forward, for as long as we both shall live.”

A faint ripple of laughter ran around the room at that. The couple faced each other, their eyes shining. The priest waited for a moment, then pronounced the final words.

“As God be my witness, I now pronounce you man and wife. You may kiss the bride.”

Roderich did so. Elizabeta laughed joyfully and threw her arms around him. Roderich could not stop the tears from falling now, and she wiped them away, laughing. They drew their arms around each other tightly, staying locked together while the cathedral rang with applause and cheers. Someone whistled, and they broke apart, laughing when they saw Feliciano blushing deeply, tears of happiness running down his cheeks. Next to him, Lovino looked decidedly uncomfortable, but applauded quietly. Francis and Antonio were both crying unashamedly, clapping loudly.

With the ceremony itself over, Roderich and Elizabeta broke apart to greet everyone. First, of course, she embraced Gilbert and Ludwig, kissing each chastely on the cheek, while Roderich did the same to Katyusha and Natalia. They made their way back down the aisle, hands clasped tightly.

Feliciano was the first to congratulate them, throwing his arms around Elizabeta. She smiled and ran a hand through his hair, then tilted his face to wipe away his tears.

“Oh, Feli, don’t cry” she laughed. Feliciano giggled. “I’m just happy!” He hugged Roderich as well, who returned it gently, willing to put up with his former charge’s display of affection for once.

Lovino returned their hugs gingerly, but politely. Elizaveta wasn’t going to let him out of it, however, and embraced him tightly. Then, giggling, she all but pushed him towards Antonio, who caught him, beaming. She grinned at them both.

Beside her, Roderich couldn’t help a faint groan. She turned to see him smiling faintly. _Really?_ he mouthed.

“Of course! Now we’ve got our happily ever after, everyone else needs theirs!” she whispered. He shook his head, smiling. They were interrupted by an announcement.

“Bride, groom, guests, if you would please proceed to the garden, where the photographer is waiting.”

The conversation halted, everyone making their way outside.

As if realising the day, the weather was perfect. Clear blue sky stretched above them, dotted with tiny white clouds. A summer breeze wafted gently through the grounds of the cathedral, bringing with it the scent of the gardens.

Elizaveta clutched her husband’s hand tightly. Roderich, in turn, squeezed hers back. Before, in the middle of the 19th century, photography had been in its infancy, taking hours to set up and ending up still and formal. This was a chance to be themselves, a happy couple in love, surrounded by friends and family.

The first photos taken were a group, everyone smiling and laughing at the camera. After that, Elizabeta and Roderich, as well as Hans, were called away to a separate area of the garden, for their private pictures. Once those were taken to the photographer’s satisfaction, the guests were called forward, announcing that the bride and groom would now pose in groups of 3 or 4. One by one, everyone trailed off to get their pictures done. Some, like Kiku and Mei, had their own cameras with them, and gladly took pictures of the others to send to them immediately, rather than wait for the official prints to be ready.

Once the photographs were done, there was a period of free time while the meals were prepared.

When the issue of the meal was first discussed, it had been Roderich, surprisingly, to make a suggestion. Elizabeta had readily agreed, and thus they had decided to throw out the idea of the traditional meal.

Instead, in tribute to their shared history and culture, and in celebration of the company, a long table ran the length of the room, filled with every kind of dish imaginable. They had ensured no-one was left out, and consequently the table groaned with a truly global selection of food. In an attempt to create some kind of order, however, the buffet was laid out in rough groups of food types, to make it easier to sort.

The buffet was not the only thing to deviate from the norm, however.

The issue of seating was one that caused strife and conflict in even the most normal of families. Add in a room full of immortal beings with centuries of bloodshed and conflict, however, and the idea of seating plan was enough to make Roderich feel quite faint.

That was, until they had come across an amazing idea, and from a human tradition, at that. Instead of the formal seating plan, they had discovered that many humans simply placed a small sign at the entrance.

_Today, we celebrate two families becoming one. Please pick a seat, not a side._

It was perfect. It would be far too much of a task to sort out neutral terms given each country’s vast political history, and this was the perfect solution. The only table they had set aside was that for the micro- and younger nations, given that they were, in appearance at least, children and so would likely be more comfortable in their own company.

As always, once the complimentary alcohol had been broken out, rivalries resurfaced and scores attempted to settle. As always, the other nations stepped in to break them up, physically if necessary. All in all, however, the guests generally managed to stay relatively civil.

The fact was, being as they were immortal, and existed as anthropomorphic personifications of countries; alliances, however common, had always been purely political, and rarely on their own part. This, however, was personal, a display of love between the two of them that no-one could deny.

Soon enough, the dinner was over. It was time for the moment everyone had been waiting for, the first dance.

It was generally traditional for this to be kept a secret, even in human weddings. However, in this instance, the choice had been kept secret to all but one person. Roderich did not often ask his wife for anything, but this time, he had been adamant that he be the one to choose. Elizabeta, surprised by his pleading forcefulness, had acquiesced.

Slowly, Roderich led her out onto the floor. The guests gathered around, waiting. At a nod from the musician, the music started.

The effect was immediate. Elizabeta brought her hands up to cover her mouth, her eyes shining with tears. Roderich took her hands in his, kissing them. He drew back, bowing slightly.

“_May I have this dance”? _he asked.

She nodded wordlessly. Roderich drew her into a tight embrace, holding her for a long moment, then they separated to arm’s length.

They danced to the music as if they were the only two people in the world. “_D__o you like it?” _Roderich asked in a whisper. He spoke in Hungarian, wiping her tears away when the words made her cry with happiness.

“_Yes. Yes! I love it!”_

The song was _hers_. Not either of their anthems, not a cliché tune or record, but _hers_. Roderich had determined it from the moment he first met her. No human tune could ever hope to show even a fraction of his love for her, and so he hadn’t even tried to look for one. He had never been one to show his emotions readily, wearing his heart on his sleeve like others did. Rather, he spoke to her in the one language he knew best. Music.

He had written the tune for her many, many years ago. Only she had ever been allowed to hear it. Every bar, every rise and fall, each and every note contained his love for her, weaving a melody of their long history together in a way that only she would ever truly know.

The melody was set to a perfect, timelessly elegant waltz. They moved in perfect harmony, bodies twirling and meeting in a swish of green and white.

There wasn’t a dry eye in the room. Even those who had no ear for music couldn’t fail to see what it meant to them, dancing together in a perfect display of bliss.

All too soon, it came to an end. The last note hung in the air, filling the room as Roderich bowed low, kissing her hand again, just as he had at the start. Elizabet blushed prettily, then pulled him up into a kiss. They stood there, wrapped up in each other, taking a moment to savour everything they had gone through.

After that, they threw the music open to the room. Elizabeta excused herself to go and change, returning in a floor-length cocktail dress in a deep green, the bodice accented with gold thread. Roderich kept his white tuxedo, merely taking the coat off to reveal the lilac of his shirt.

Rather than have a selection of tunes, they had decided to allow whoever wanted to a turn on the instruments, within reason. There were ‘children’ present, after all.

The rest of the night was spent dancing, drinking and generally enjoying themselves in a way they rarely got to do. Some began to leave towards midnight, either stating they were ‘too old’ (Yao) or that they had better get the younger ones to bed (the Nordics and Australasians). Elizabeta and Roderich made sure to bid farewell to everyone personally, regardless of history. She had even, at least for the night, called a truce with one of her most hated enemies, Vlad. He was holding a sleepy Alexandru, who had been included with the micronations due to his childlike looks. They managed a cordial, if not entirely heartfelt, polite farewell, Vlad even going to far as to wish them well.

Eventually, even those most hardened to the availability of free alcohol were persuaded that it really was time to say goodbye. Elizabeta and Roderich stood with their arms around each other’s waists as they bid the last of the guests farewell, whether they were leaving for home or merely going upstairs to stumble to their rooms.

It had been agreed that Hans would be staying with Gilbert for the duration of his parent’s honeymoon, a situation which they only agreed to after countless reassurances from the albino that if he had managed to raise Ludwig with little ill effect over a period of several centuries, then he was surely responsible enough to take care of one very well behaved micronation for a couple of weeks. They were not entirely satisfied, but relented with the promise that if things got too much to handle, Gilbert was to take him to Tino and Berwald, who were much more used to taking care of young children, and where Hans would be with two of his few friends.

Finally, though, it was just the two of them. They made their way up to the bridal suite, the entirely of the top floor given over to their celebration of love. Once inside the luxurious room, they turned to the huge windows, staring out onto the grounds. The sun had slipped below the horizon, bathing the grounds in soft blue light, the sky above already shining with the constellations.

“They haven’t changed, have they?” Elizabeta said.

Roderich glanced at her, tilting his head slighlty. “The stars,” she clarified. “They still look the same, no matter how long it’s been, or where we go.”

He simply smiled in return, interlacing their hands. “No, they don’t.”

Suddenly, he lifted her into his arms, twirling her round and round until she was breathless from laughter.

“What was that for?” she giggled.

Roderich kissed her deeply. “Because you are my wife, and I love you.”

Her eyes shone. _My wife_. “And you are my husband.” She threw her arm around his neck, nuzzling into him. “I love you. So very, very, much.”

He kissed her forehead. “Forever.”

She nodded. “Forever.”

**Author's Note:**

> WHY ARE THERE SO MANY SPELLINGS FOR NAMES. I try to keep to one spelling for each nation, even if it changes from fic to fic, so as much as I check everything over for continuity like three times at least, I might have missed something. Thanks for reading!


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